Heaven on Earth, Theoretically
by thewindinthemeadow
Summary: Semi-medieval human AU. Castiel's a prince, Michael's the king, and Gabriel is the presumed dead run-away. Dean vanishes under mysterious circumstances, so Sam runs away to find him and enlists Castiel's help. Sam finds a web of intrigue that everyone is stuck in, even Samandriel the door-guard.
1. Chapter 1: Walking

Castiel rubbed his eyes as he walked home from a long day of helping his brother at the palace. Castiel's brother, Michael, was the king, and as Michael was childless Castiel was next in line for the throne. It was often a rather trying position. It should have been Gabriel, not Castiel, but Gabriel had vanished several years ago and was presumed dead.

Michael had become king recently, and he and Castiel were still reeling from their father's sudden death that had pushed them into positions that they were hardly prepared to handle. Michael was barely holding the kingdom together, even with Castiel doing everything he could to help. Castiel had never realized how much work their father did. It was exhausting.

Castiel stumbled slightly over his feet and rubbed his eyes again. Maybe walking hadn't been the best idea. Still, it was only about a quarter mile farther, which wasn't long at all, even in Castiel's tired state.

He checked his watch, wondering how long he'd been walking and realizing that he didn't know when Michael had ordered him to go home. The slender, almost invisible hands on the watch pointed to a quarter past one. _It's not_ that _late,_ Castiel thought. Michael always worried about him more than he considered necessary. Just because he was still technically underage- well, he knew that wasn't it. Nothing would change in ten months with Castiel's eighteenth birthday.

Castiel was the only person Michael had left to worry about. He frowned, thinking about that. They should've had a whole family. They didn't, not anymore. When Castiel was born his mother died. Four years later their aunt was stabbed to death, probably for political reasons. Just six years after that Gabriel vanished. He was only thirteen at the time. Castiel had only been ten, but even now, seven years later, he still wasn't over Gabriel's death.

His father's death a few weeks ago hadn't even sunk in yet. Castiel hadn't had the time to process anything. He knew that death was normal and inevitable, but it seemed like an unfairly high number of people in his family were gone. None of them were old enough to go yet.

An odd sound tore Castiel from his thoughts. The meow of a cat. It sounded familiar.

"Jimmy?" Castiel asked.

A small tortoiseshell cat came out of the shadows. He affectionately rubbed his face against Castiel's ankle. Castiel picked him up, and he started purring.

"Hey, Jimmy," Castiel said, scratching behind Jimmy's ears. "What are you doing out here? You are not supposed to be outside." He tried to make his voice sound stern.

Jimmy nuzzled Castiel's shoulder.

"You missed me?" Castiel asked gently. "Let's get you home. How did you get out?"

Jimmy, of course, didn't answer. When Castiel reached his house he found that the door was ajar.

 _This is not good,_ Castiel thought. _I might have forgotten to lock the door when I left this morning, but I know I closed it. How is it open now?_

Castiel stepped through, closing the door and setting Jimmy down as he scanned the room for obvious signs of intruders. Nothing was out of place. He was worried, and his first instinct was to run to Michael for help. He pushed that idea aside as childish. He didn't know what to do, so he didn't do anything.

Castiel went upstairs to his room. His other cat, Shelly, was curled up asleep on his bed. He gently ran his hand along her fluffy, silver-grey fur. Castiel noticed that the curtains on his window were closed. _There's something seriously wrong here,_ he thought. But he had always doubted his own judgement, and he didn't know how to handle the fact that random objects in his house were not where he had left them.

"Maybe I closed the curtains," Castiel told Shelly. "I guess I forgot. Still, I _always_ open the curtains in the morning." He massaged his forehead with his index finger.

"I guess I'm just tired," Castiel murmured. "It's probably nothing." He left to clean his teeth.

Shelly rose and stretched luxuriously. She leapt down off the bed and stood beside it, regarding something underneath it. A cautious hand came from under the bed and hovered gently beside her face. She sniffed it thoughtfully, taking in the scent of blood from a set of scratches on the back of the hand. The skin on the wrist was also badly torn, and there was a trace of mud under the jagged fingernails.

Shelly rubbed her face against the hand, and it reached up to gently stroke her head. She purred. The hand patted her for a few minutes before its owner retracted it. Shelly leapt back onto the bed and started washing her paw.

Castiel walked in in his pajamas, hair rumpled. He paused uncertainly in the doorway, looking around like something was wrong. He shrugged it off after a moment, but he still looked uneasy as he walked across the room to where Shelly had been standing when the hand came out.

"Do cats ever get that weird feeling like someone's watching them?" Castiel asked as he petted Shelly. His eyes shot nervously to the closed curtains. "I feel like a little kid who thinks there's a monster in the closet. It's silly."

Castiel shivered and yawned. "It's probably just lack of sleep." He flipped off the lights.

"Goodnight, Shelly," he said as he dropped into bed.

Shelly purred and curled up against his side. Castiel's breathing soon deepened and evened out. He was asleep.

 _A/N Please leave a review if you want to read more of this story. It was just an idea that came to me, though I do have some ideas for the plot. I'm not sure if I'm going to write more, and I want to know if anyone would like to read more._ _The rating might change to T later for thematic elements, or swearing if Dean shows up. I haven't decided on pairings yet, but I can do anything but incest. So, does anybody want a second chapter? Please review._


	2. Chapter 2: Echoes

_A/N So, here's chapter two. I'd like to thank the people who reviewed the first chapter; I very much appreciate it. All feedback is welcome and helpful._

A young man crawled out from under Castiel's bed, trying to be quiet. He watched Castiel sleep for a few moments, before crossing to a desk. He started going through Castiel's papers, looking for anything useful. He'd been hoping for work papers or a journal, but all he found were charcoal drawings.

The drawings were beautiful, and he could appreciate Castiel's talent and the skill born from long hours of practice. Still, they weren't helpful. He gave up on the drawings on the desk and hunted through the drawers. Charcoal pencils. More drawings.

The man didn't notice that Shelly had stood up and was stretching. She studied him curiously and walked over Castiel toward him. Castiel woke up when Shelly stepped on his nose. He pushed her off and sat up. The man froze as Castiel stared at him.

Castiel blinked and rubbed his eyes. Was he imagining things? The man was still there.

"I'm not dreaming…"

The man was still frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

"Why are you in my room?" Castiel asked.

"Private investigator?" the man tried weakly, checking his pockets for an id that wasn't there.

Castiel studied him critically. "Highschool runaway?" he guessed.

The boy shifted nervously. "It wasn't like that."

"So tell me," Castiel said, sitting up straighter, "what was it like?"

"So, it's about my brother," the boy explained. "He- um-" He ran a hand through his long hair. "He vanished."

Castiel immediately remembered how it'd felt when Gabriel disappeared. He felt a rush of sympathy for this strange boy who'd broken into his house in the middle of the night because his brother had vanished.

"I have to find him," the boy continued, looking at Castiel with damp hazel eyes that made him look like a lost puppy.

"Can't the police find him?" Castiel asked, trying to look at the situation logically.

"They won't even try," the boy complained. "He's eighteen, and they think he just left. There were no signs of a struggle."

"So why do you think he didn't just decide to leave?" Castiel asked gently.

"Because he _wouldn't_ ," the boy insisted. "Dean wouldn't just leave. He can't have." He looked like he was about to start crying.

"Why don't you sit down," Castiel suggested. "Calm down. It'll be ok; we'll figure this out."

The boy sat down obediently and endeavored to calm himself. Castiel gave him a minute.

When he saw that the boy had calmed down reasonably he asked, "What is your name?"

"Sam," the boy said. "Sam Winchester."

"So, Sam Winchester, why are you here?" Castiel asked.

"When Dean disappeared, the police didn't think there were any leads. It's pathetic, but get this: all the places in the yard where you could see in the windows of my house had little piles of candy wrappers on the ground."

"Candy wrappers," Castiel said.

Sam nodded.

"Why would candy wrappers on the ground lead you to me?" Castiel asked. "I never eat candy."

"You don't," Sam said. "But someone who eats a lot of candy stands outside your windows for long periods of time. If you check outside, you'll find candy wrappers on the ground everywhere with a good view in the windows."

"Oh," Castiel said. "So you think whoever took Dean is watching me now?"

"It's all I've got," Sam said.

"It could be connected," Castiel said. "I don't see what that would tell us; this isn't really my field…"

"Do you s'pose we might be able to find my brother?" Sam asked. The expression in his eyes was rather desperate.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "But I think Michael can help you. I'll take you to see him in the morning."

"Who's Michael?" Sam asked.

"He's my older brother," Castiel explained. "He's better at this kind of thing than I am."

"Do we have to wait 'til morning?" Sam asked impatiently.

"Sam, it's two am," Castiel complained. "Michael's asleep, and we should be too. I'll show you to the guest bedroom."

Sam went along without protesting; now that Castiel pointed it out he realized he was tired. Twenty minutes later both boys were sound asleep.

He was watching through the open curtains of Sam's room, casually munching on a chocolate bar. Sam was curled up facing away from him, so there was no danger of Sam spotting him. Even if Sam woke up and turned around, the darkness could hide him pretty well.

 _I should've realized that Cassie would run to tell Michael,_ he thought. _It's what he's always done before._ He rolled his eyes. Castiel could be very annoying. At least he was predictable.

He walked around the house and entered through the side door. The lock was easy to pick. The cats didn't bother him; they'd seen him enough times before that they weren't worried. Jimmy tagged along behind him when he went upstairs to Castiel's bedroom.

Castiel's breathing was even, so he wasn't too worried about waking him. He sat down next to Castiel and looked at him fondly. He brushed the tangled black hair out of Castiel's eyes.

"G'night, Cassie," he said.

Castiel stirred a little, partially waking up. He turned toward him and caught his shirtsleeve. He mumbled something inarticulate that sounded like, "Gabriel."

He would've worried that Castiel would remember he was there in the morning, but Castiel would just think it was a dream. He'd had plenty of dreams very much like this over the years since Gabriel vanished.

He sat there, watching Castiel sleep, for long enough that Castiel's grip on his sleeve loosened, his hand dropping back onto the bed. He leaned down to whisper in Castiel's ear, "I miss you."

Then he got up and left the room, heading for the stairs. He was too worried about how Sam had traced him to Castiel to pay attention on the stairs, and the fourth stair down creaked loudly. He winced; Castiel wasn't a heavy sleeper, and this wouldn't be the first time he'd almost been caught.

Castiel woke up quickly, sitting up and breathing heavily like he'd been running. "Gabriel?!" he asked.

He heard Castiel call for him, and he thought for a moment that Castiel would come down the stairs and catch him.

"It was just a dream," Castiel said. The misery in his voice made Gabriel want to run back up there and comfort him, but he stayed silently in place.

Eventually Castiel fell back asleep, and Gabriel felt safe enough to go down the rest of the staircase, making sure this time that there were no creaks. He left the way he came, steps despondent.


	3. Chapter 3: Charcoal

_A/N Samandriel somehow snuck into this story. I don't know how it happened; he wasn't supposed to be in this. I haven't seen much he's in, so if I'm writing him wrong it's not my fault. Blame my pencil for sticking him in this. Um... please review. It's very helpful to know what people think of this story._

The next morning Castiel woke to the sounds of birdsong outside his window. The bright morning sunlight clashed with his glum mood, but he welcomed it. He opened the curtains and got out his drawing supplies. He always drew when he was upset.

Castiel didn't pay attention to who he was drawing and just let his fingers work. He watched a portrait of a young man take shape. It was Gabriel, looking just like he had in the dream. Castiel wished he could stop dreaming about him.

 _Gabriel is dead,_ he told himself sternly. _He's not coming back._

Castiel's heart just wouldn't believe him. It had stubbornly held onto hope for the last seven years, it wasn't about to give up now. Castiel hoped that helping Sam find Dean might help Castiel find some closure for his own brother's disappearance.

Castiel sighed, setting aside the depressing image of his long dead brother. He forced himself to make another portrait. He just needed to draw someone, anyone, else. He didn't pay attention to exactly who he was drawing, but it was clearly a boy in his early teens. Soon it was obvious: he was drawing his unexpected guest, Sam Winchester.

Mostly the drawing went well. He did spend forty minutes fussing with the shape of Sam's cheekbones before giving up in despair, but the rest of the drawing worked. Sam's eyes were hard to get right, and he ended up looking tired. Still, that worked; Sam certainly could look that way.

Castiel finished the drawing of Sam and went back to the one of Gabriel. He drew him just how he'd looked in the dream the night before. Castiel was entirely focused on the drawing, trying to hold back tears while he shaded in Gabriel's forehead and added highlights to his hair.

"Who's that?" Sam asked from right behind Castiel.

Castiel squeaked and dropped his pencil. Long practice being scared by his older brothers helped him quickly school his breathing. When he sat up from picking up his pencil he was calm.

"Hello," Castiel said. "What were you saying? I was- deeply absorbed."

"I was just asking who the drawing is of," Sam said.

"He's my brother," Castiel said.

"Michael?" Sam asked.

"My other brother," Castiel clarified. "Gabriel. He's dead now."

"Oh," Sam said softly. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago," Castiel said. "I'm totally over it."

Sam blinked at Castiel's obvious lie. He'd watched Dean act like that a lot, but he hadn't pegged Castiel as the kind of person to act like that. He must still be really broken up about Gabriel. Sam looked around for a way to change the subject. His eyes landed on another drawing.

"Whoa, that's me," he said.

"I drew that earlier today," Castiel responded. "The cheekbones just won't come out right…"

"They're fine," Sam said. "This is incredible! It's like looking in a mirror, except it's not backwards."

Castiel was embarrassed. He didn't get many compliments, and Sam was so innocently sincere that he didn't know what to do with it. "I'm glad you like it," he said softly.

Sam looked through the rest of the drawings. He noticed that the majority of the portraits were of Gabriel or another young man a few years older.

"Who's this man?" Sam asked.

Castiel saw the portrait and immediately smiled. It was a small smile, but Sam noticed it. Castiel must really like this guy.

"That's Michael," Castiel said. "Speaking of Michael, we should go see him."

"Um- can we have breakfast first?" Sam asked.

"I forgot about breakfast," Castiel said. In all honesty, he forgot breakfast most days. It hadn't seemed important for years. Meals in general were low on his priorities list.

Castiel made toast and fruit salad for Sam, only eating a handful of granola himself. Sam ate quickly, and they went to see Michael. It was three quarters of a mile to the palace. Sam started looking intimidated and hung back when they got close.

Castiel stopped when Sam had drifted ten feet behind him, and walked back. "It's not that big," he said.

"It actually kinda is," Sam argued.

Castiel blinked at the palace. He had lived there until he was ten, so it didn't scare him at all. "It's a building," Castiel said. "It's not unusual in any way of import."

"Why does Michael live there?" Sam asked; it came out as a squeak.

"It's convenient for him to live near his work," Castiel answered.

"Right," Sam said weakly. He trailed closely beside Castiel as they came up to a large gate. There was even a guard. Sam was impressed with how normal Castiel acted. Sam certainly wasn't used to massive palaces guarded by men in real armor. OK, so the man was really more of a boy. He was probably twelve or thirteen, just a little younger than Sam.

Castiel smiled at the guard. "Hey, Alfie," he said cheerfully.

"Hi, Castiel," Alfie said. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Sam," Castiel said. "Sam, this is Alfie. His name is technically Samandriel, but no one actually calls him that."

"The king calls me Samandriel," Alfie corrected. "Nobody else does, but-" He shrugged.

Castiel was smiling again. "The king likes being formal," he said.

"It's nice to meet you," Sam said honestly. He could already tell by Alfie's innocent smile and the delicate light in his eyes that he would be great as a friend.

"Likewise," Alfie said.

"We need to see my brother," Castiel said.

"Well- sure, but-" Alfie bit his lip. "I'm not allowed to let strangers in."


	4. Chapter 4: Conversations

"Let us pass," Castiel ordered. He spoke gently to Alfie, but it was still clearly an order.

"Yes, Castiel," was Alfie's immediate reply. His voice had changed from friendly and cheerful to submissive and upset, and his head drooped. Sam could tell that there was some painful history behind Alfie's actions, and he wondered briefly what it was.

Castiel felt guilty. "I'll see you around?" he asked gently, an odd touch of pleading in his voice. Sam was feeling rather confused by this exchange.

Alfie's head came up enough at the question for the small smile that flitted briefly across his face to be visible. "Of course," he said. There was a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Castiel looked relieved, but still rather guilty. He shot Alfie one last smile before going through the gate and walking towards the palace. Sam hurried after him.

"He is way too nice," Castiel said in a pained voice.

Sam decided not to press him.

Castiel visibly calmed down as he led Sam up three flights of stairs. He had looked rather stiff and nervous talking to Alfie, and now he looked relaxed and unfazed. Sam was envious. He was scared; he didn't know Michael and he didn't know what to expect.

Castiel had made it sound like Michael was Sam's one shot to find Dean, and Sam was terrified that he'd make a bad impression. After all, he had broken into Castiel's house. Castiel himself apparently didn't care at all who broke into his house, but Sam couldn't imagine an older sibling who wouldn't get angry on his little brother's behalf.

Sam noticed to his embarrassment that his hands were shaking. He hoped Castiel hadn't noticed.

"Calm down," Castiel recommended. He sounded mildly amused.

Sam bit his lip in mortification. He nodded meekly and tried to calm down. He reminded himself that panicking would do him no good, trying in vain to steady his breathing.

Castiel knocked, and went inside after hearing something that Sam couldn't catch. He left the door open, but Sam was too shy to follow him in.

"You entered by the east gate?" a voice Sam didn't know asked. He guessed it must be Michael.

Castiel didn't respond audibly. He must have nodded.

"How is Samandriel?" Michael asked.

"He's-" Castiel sighed. "He's still mad at me. He just won't act angry because he knows that I was- technically in the right. So, we can't solve anything because he doesn't want to. And he's still obviously mixed up and upset."

Castiel's voice was filled with guilt and pain. Sam wished again that someone would explain what was going on. He knew it wasn't any of his business, but it was annoying not understanding any of the conversations he'd overheard. He didn't like not understanding things.

"I wonder if he wants to talk to his parents," Michael said thoughtfully.

"It would be a bad idea to allow that," Castiel responded. "But he certainly wouldn't say if he did want to see them."

Sam had walked cautiously up to the door and was now standing just out of sight of Michael and Castiel. He didn't dare go closer.

"I know it's a bad idea," Michael said dejectedly. "It's just the only idea I've got. Something has to give."

"You could try talking to him," Castiel said. "He hero worshipped you when we were kids."

"I think he hates me now."

There was a long minute of silence in Michael's office. Sam shifted nervously.

"Do you want me to try talking to Alfie?" Castiel finally asked.

"I don't know if he's calmed down enough to talk to you about anything that matters," Michael said. "You were his best friend, before…"

"A random stranger could probably get more from Alfie now than I can," Castiel said dully. "Would he talk to anyone now?"

"Probably not."

Sam had moved to stand visibly in the doorway. He was staring at his shoes, unwilling to risk making eye contact.

"Sam, why don't you come in," Michael said.

Sam's head snapped up. "How do you know my name?" he demanded fearfully.

"I recognized you from your file," Michael explained. "Sit," he ordered, motioning to the chair in front of his desk.

Sam sat down in the seat with a face like he expected it to explode. He knew he was overly nervous, but he couldn't seem to stop hyperventilating.

"You ran away from the Harvelles to search for Dean," Michael stated in a clearly nonjudgmental tone that instantly put Sam at ease, despite himself.

"I didn't mean to scare them or anything," Sam said, starting to worry about his foster mother and sister.

"They're fine," Michael said. "How did you end up staying with Castiel?"

"I- well-" Sam stammered. "Um…"He looked to Castiel with a plea for help written in his expressive hazel eyes.

Castiel met Sam's eyes for a moment before turning to Michael and picking up on a cue that Sam couldn't catch. Whatever it was, it made Castiel turn away from Sam to look deliberately out of the window. Sam was at Michael's mercy.

 _Brilliant,_ Sam thought sarcastically at Castiel. _Thanks so much._

Castiel was seemingly oblivious to Sam's glare, but Michael must have guessed Sam's thoughts. His lips twitched upward into a half smile.

"Why don't you start with why you ran away," Michael suggested, his smooth voice betraying his amusement. "What made you think the police weren't handling the situation?"

That question was easier; Sam's breathing settled some as he thought about how to answer. "Dean just- vanished, you know," Sam began. He briefly raised his eyes to meet Michael's before dropping his head again. "I know my brother. He wouldn't leave without a reason, not willingly."

"And what if he had a reason," Michael said. "Can't you think of any reasons for Dean to leave for a few weeks?"

"He broke up with Layla, his girlfriend," Sam said. "And he was fighting with Ellen about something, but I don't think it was that serious. I just can't imagine…" Sam trailed off, feeling like he would start crying if he tried to say anymore.

"Was there anything you noticed to indicate that Dean might've been forced to leave?" Michael asked.

Sam bit his lip. "There were a lot of scattered candy wrappers. It was weird. I mean, Dean likes sugar, but he usually eats pastries, not candy. He loves pie. I would always get cake when he asked for pie, just to annoy him."


	5. Chapter 5: Rebellious

"You traced the candy wrappers to Castiel's house," Michael stated.

Sam nodded.

"Am I the only one who didn't know about those things?" Castiel demanded suddenly from the window. Sam jumped slightly, he'd almost forgotten that Castiel was there.

"I didn't think it was necessary to inform you," Michael told his little brother. "You aren't in any danger as long as you don't do anything rash."

Castiel muttered something that was obviously disparaging before turning back to the window.

Michael's focus went back to Sam. "How did you meet Castiel?"

Sam knew he couldn't avoid this question for much longer, so he figured he might as well get it over with. He was worried. He knew that Dean would freak if he heard that a strange man had broken into Sam's house, and he supposed that Michael would react the same way to a threat against Castiel.

"I was just snooping around in his house," Sam began nervously. He was watching Michael carefully for signs of an overprotective older brother blow-up, but Michael was giving off only curiosity, patience, and calmness.

"Go on," Michael urged gently.

"I heard Castiel come in," Sam continued, "And the nearest hiding place was under his bed. So, um- I hid there. And he fell asleep, so I came out. And then his cat woke him up, so- um- I got caught."

Michael smirked. "You hid under Castiel's bed?" He somehow made it sound like a joke.

"In my defense, it was two in the morning. I don't normally stay up that late, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

"I felt like someone was watching me," Castiel commented. "I actually almost checked under the bed."

"Now, that should've tipped you off that something real was happening," Michael said. "With you it was always the monsters in the closet, not under the bed."

Castiel's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. "Hey," he complained. "That was ages ago!"

"Six years," Michael said casually. "Two if you count that time when you were fifteen-"

Castiel cut him off. "That doesn't count!"

"So there weren't monsters in your closet?" Michael teased.

"I knew they weren't real," Castiel argued.

"Sure you did," Michael drawled.

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned back to the window.

Michael turned back to Sam and studied him. "Your foster family, the Harvelles. Were you having any problems with them?"

Sam shook his head. "No, they were great," he said. "They just wouldn't let me look for Dean."

"Don't you think Dean can handle himself?" Michael asked. "I'm sure he's fine."

Sam's face darkened. "But what if he's not? He's my brother; I can't just give up because he _might_ have left willingly, and he _might_ be fine. I can't."

"Sam, my police are already doing everything they can to locate your brother," Michael stated. "There is nothing an untrained fourteen year old can do. You may choose to stay here or return to the Harvelles, but you are not looking for Dean."

Sam bit his lip, his face an indecisive mess of rebellion and defeat. He was unconvinced but knew that logic was against him. He stayed silent.

"Stay with me, Sam," Castiel recommended. "It's right down the street; you'll hear as soon as anyone finds anything."

Sam nodded. It would be nice to stay with someone he'd known at least a few hours, and he liked Castiel. He didn't want to go back to the Harvelles after he'd recklessly run off. Ellen wouldn't approve, and he didn't want to face her scolding. "I'll stay with Castiel," Sam agreed.

"Alright," Michael said. "Castiel, take Sam back home. You weren't supposed to come in at all today. And- tell Samandriel I said hi, if you see him."

"Will do," Castiel said. "Come on, Sam."

Sam kept quiet on the way down the three flights of stairs. He was thinking. He'd rather not defy Michael, who seemed to be quite powerful here. _My_ police, he'd said. What did that mean? Was Michael like a police chief or something?

Sam just didn't know if he could stand around doing nothing with Dean missing. He had the impression that Castiel was supposed to be watching him; he didn't want to get Castiel in trouble for letting him run away, but he had to know what was happening with Dean. So he would have to run away from Castiel like he'd run away from the Harvelles.

He hoped Castiel wouldn't get in too much trouble with Michael if Sam escaped, but they seemed to really care about each other. So it probably wouldn't be a serious problem. And even if it was, Dean was more important. Sam decided to climb out of the window in his room that night, if he didn't get a better chance before then. That would certainly work.


	6. Chapter 6: Plotting

**I hadn't been paying much attention to this story and just noticed it sitting there. I actually had to go back through everything to remember the plot line, it'd been so long. I think I managed to get everything to flow smoothly with what I had planned. So, here's the next chapter, two months later. Sorry about the ghastly wait.**

"Hello, Castiel- Sam," Alfie said. He was smiling sweetly, but there was something fragile about his smile, like it could break in an instant.

"Hi, Alfie," Castiel said gently.

"Hi," Sam said unenthusiastically.

"Michael asked me to say hi to you," Castiel told Alfie casually.

"He what?" Alfie asked, blinking in disbelief.

"He asked me to tell you he said hi," Castiel repeated.

"Michael said this?" Alfie asked.

"Yes," Castiel clarified patiently.

"Huh." Alfie stared into the distance. "Why?"

It was Castiel's turn to blink confusedly. "Michael did not specify why I should say hi to you," Castiel explained. "I assumed he was being friendly."

"Friendly?" Alfie asked. "He's not still mad?"

"Michael? Mad at you?" Castiel asked incredulously. "Michael hasn't been mad at you for-" he had to think about it. "Four years."

"Four years?" Alfie questioned. "Oh, right. The time I dyed his hair pink right before that really important meeting. That was your fault, Castiel."

"How was it my fault?" Castiel asked with assumed innocence. "You're the one who did it."

"After you bought the dye and told me to," Alfie argued. "And you said it would wear off in a couple of hours! Michael's hair was bubblegum pink for a week."

Castiel snickered.

"It wasn't funny," Alfie protested. "Michael had never been mad at me before. It was a nightmare."

"He really went pretty easy on you, Alfie," Castiel said. "He hardly yelled at all."

"I was eight!" Alfie complained. "Nobody had yelled at me, like, ever."

"Yeah," Castiel said. "I probably shouldn't've done that. I was a bit of a brat. If it's any consolation, Michael chewed me out for making a kid do my dirty work- and for spoiling his meeting."

"You deserved it," Alfie retorted. "How did you even come up with that idea? You were normally well behaved, but then sometimes you'd just bust out these crazy pranks-"

Castiel winced. "It was the dreams," he said. "Gabriel would recommend I do all sorts of stupid things like the stuff he used to try. Sometimes I listened."

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around," Alfie said.

"Yeah," Castiel said. He smiled, but it was tinged in sadness. "It was really nice talking to you again."

"Likewise," Alfie said. His smile seemed more genuine.

Castiel started behaving strangely when he and Sam got back to his house. He was peering out of windows, plotting distances and angles, and going from room to room as though there was something wrong with them all. Sam got shushed when he tried to ask what was going on.

Castiel dragged Sam through several rooms, closed a window in one of them, and finally relaxed in the windowless drawing room.

"It should be safe to speak now," Castiel said.

"Why all the precautions?" Sam asked. "Are you worried about the candy wrapper guy overhearing us?"

"No," Castiel replied simply.

"Then- why?" Sam asked.

"Michael's having me followed and watched," Castiel explained. "I don't want his guards overhearing."

"I thought you totally trusted him and thought he was right all the time," Sam argued suspiciously. "Now you're keeping secrets from him and acting like he's the bad guy?"

"I'm not mad he's having me followed or anything," Castiel said. "I'm sure he's just worried about me, and normally it would make me feel safe. But he's my brother, and I can tell when he's lying. He's good at it, but I learned all the tells. And he was lying about something in that conversation we just had."

"What was it?" Sam asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure," Castiel admitted. "There was just a light sense of concealment and trickery throughout the entire thing. But trusting Michael is no longer the most reasonable option. We need to try something else."

"Dean could be anywhere," Sam said. "The only lead we have is that whoever's watching you took Dean."

"Which doesn't tell us anything about where Dean is," Castiel agreed. "I'm not entirely sure what we can do in this situation."

"Mr. Candy Wrappers is fixated on you," Sam said. "We can use you-"

"Use me as bait," Castiel agreed. "It's a bad plan."

Sam shrugged. He didn't have anything else to suggest.

"I'll do it," Castiel agreed.

Sam blinked. He hadn't expected Castiel to agree casually to something so soon after saying it was a bad idea. Still, it wasn't like he was complaining. He needed to find Dean, and if Castiel agreed to help, that just gave him half a chance of getting somewhere.

"How do I do this?" Castiel asked. "Unless he's been stalking me for less than just the last two weeks, which seems unlikely, I would've been very exposed to anything he wanted to do. And he's made no attempt to attack me."

"What happened two weeks ago to increase security like that?" Sam asked.

Castiel flinched. "My father was assassinated. Michael nearly was as well, but I spilled all my best friend's most confidential secrets and managed to save Michael's life."

"Oh," Sam said very quietly. "Sorry."

"So, how are we doing this?" Castiel asked.

Sam struggled for a moment to get his head back in the game. "Um, you have to find a way to vary your routine drastically enough to catch his notice. If you do something significant enough to break his control over you, we can force his hand. I don't know what he'll do, but it's the only way I can think of to draw him out."

"Anything I've never done before," Castiel said thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Unique and drastic. Ideally also confusing."

"I don't hike in the Pearl Forest, ever," Castiel said. "We could go backpacking there without warning anyone."

"You hike a lot?" Sam asked.

Castiel nodded. "Everywhere but there. I haven't set foot in those woods for seven years, and I rarely stay out overnight."

"Sounds odd enough to pass," Sam said. "I guess it's our best shot. Let's try it."

Sam and Castiel packed in a hurry, taking only about half an hour. They were mostly prepared when they left, but they missed a lot of things. If they'd really been planning on just hiking for a few days, they would've been in trouble. But they were expecting and hoping to get captured by someone, so it didn't matter too much.

It was a bigger problem that they had no escape plan and no idea of what being captured would mean. Anything could happen, and it wasn't likely to end well.


End file.
